


Your Hands On My Skin

by vintagelilacs



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Banter, Canon Era, M/M, Massage, Sexual Tension, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-16
Updated: 2019-02-16
Packaged: 2019-10-28 11:58:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17786963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vintagelilacs/pseuds/vintagelilacs
Summary: “Er, what exactly are you getting at?”“A massage, Merlin,” Arthur said, exasperation leaching into his voice.“What? Why?”Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose. “Not that you would know, seeing as you spend all your free time in the tavern, but some of us actually exert ourselves on a regular basis.”Merlin blinked slowly. “And you wantmeto massage you?”Arthur scowled. “Forget it, I’ll just call on someone else.”Forgoing the chance to have Arthur spread out before him in all his lean, nude glory would have been a tragic waste. “No! I’ll do it!”





	Your Hands On My Skin

For a secret, stolen moment, Merlin surveyed Arthur’s profile, appreciative of how the sunset cast him in shades of orange and vermilion, and set his golden hair ablaze. Arthur’s head was bent low over a weighty stack of parchment, and every line of his body was drawn taut like a bowstring waiting to be released. His tenseness was not uncharacteristic, especially after being crowned king, but it seemed even more pronounced than usual.

“Merlin.” Arthur had given no prior indication he was cognizant of Merlin’s presence. Merlin himself was quiet, his breath near inaudible, and his footsteps light instead of heavy or squeaking. Rather than by sound, Arthur seemed to sense him from instinct alone, as if some part of him was attuned to Merlin’s aura. 

He started. “Yes?” 

“You’re trained as a physician’s apprentice.”

Nice of him to finally notice after all these years. “That is correct.”

“You have knowledge of human anatomy.” 

”Excellent deductive reasoning, sire.” 

“Surely you’d know how to relieve muscle tension.” 

That wasn’t an incorrect inference. “Er, what exactly are you getting at?”

“A massage, Merlin,” Arthur said, exasperation leaching into his voice.

“What? Why?” 

Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose, finally deigning to lift his eyes from the parchment. “Not that you would know, seeing as you spend all your free time in the tavern, but some of us actually exert ourselves on a regular basis.” 

Merlin blinked slowly. “And you want _me_ to massage you?” 

Arthur scowled. “Forget it, I’ll just call on someone else.” 

Forgoing the chance to have Arthur spread out before him in all his lean, nude glory would have been a tragic waste. “No! I’ll do it!” he exclaimed, wincing at how overeager he sounded. "I mean, I am your manservant, after all." 

Arthur pushed back his chair, and Merlin fought not to fidget under the scrutiny. “If you somehow manage to injure me…” 

“I would never.”

Arthur didn’t look entirely placated by this, but he nonetheless gave a nod of acquiescence. “Alright. Do you have any massage oils on hand?” 

Merlin blinked. Why on earth would he? “Let me just check my bag.” 

While Merlin didn’t have any massage oils, he did had some empty vials and flasks in his burlap sack. After a flash of gold eyes and a muttered spell, the vials filled with aromatic oil. “I have a few here!” 

Arthur stared. “I was joking. Why the hell do you have them on hand?” 

“F-for this very reason,” Merlin said solemnly. “A proper servant is prepared for every contingency.” 

“You are a strange one, Merlin.” Arthur clambered to his feet. “Alright, how do you want me?” 

And wasn’t that a fun question. Merlin cleared his throat. “On the bed.” 

Arthur sent him a disgusted glance. “I wouldn’t very well let you massage me on the floor.” 

Merlin, for one, wouldn’t be averse. 

“I _meant_ , would you like my lying down, or sitting upright to start?” 

“Um, lying down would be fine.” 

His mouth went dry as he watched Arthur’s hands reach for the ends of his tunic. He pulled the garment off slowly, revealing the hard planes of tantalizing skin inch by cruel inch as if performing some sort of strip tease. Merlin wanted to demand what he was doing, but his throat was too dry to allow words to pass through, and it wasn’t as if he had a right to question Arthur anyway. Finally Arthur pulled the garment fully off, and if he struggled a little when his arms got caught above his head, Merlin was too distracted to say anything.

His eyes dragged appreciatively down Arthur’s strong, broad shoulders and rippling back muscles that tapered into a thin waist. There were scars and wounds along the smooth expanse, mementos of skirmishes and battles that Arthur had won, though some at great cost.

Merlin took a small step forward, but immediately came to a halt when he noticed Arthur’s hands come to his waistline. Merlin stared open-mouthed as his king set about removing his trousers as well. It was worth noting he wasn’t wearing any small clothes underneath.

Merlin gulped. It wasn’t as though he'd never beheld a completely nude Arthur before, but each occurrence seemed to affect him just as strongly. Arthur’s strong, muscular thighs were a work of art, and his royal arse was quite the spectacle as well. Sequestered away in Arthur’s bedchambers with Arthur nude in front of him, Merlin could almost pretend they were there under different circumstances. Heat pooled low in his gut. Would Arthur object if Merlin closed the distance between them now and touched him? Would he be furious if Merlin worshipped his glorious body with his tongue? Quite possibly. 

Merlin chomped down hard on his lower lip. _Think of something else. Think of that patient from last week suffering from gangrene. Or that time Grunhilda tried to seduce Gaius._ Eugh. Okay, that killed his arousal somewhat, but he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to survive until the end of their massage session. 

He watched dry-mouthed as Arthur laid down on his stomach and pillowed his head on his arms. “Any day now, Merlin.” 

His throat clicked when he swallowed. “Um. Right.” He poured a generous amount of oil in his hands and rubbed them together to warm it. 

He’d assisted Arthur with dressing and undressing and even helped him into the bath when Arthur was feeling particularly sadistic, but he’d never been allowed the chance to let his touch linger, or to explore Arthur’s bare skin in great detail. 

Not entirely sure what he was doing, he began by running his thumbs up and down along Arthur’s spine. It was awkward trying to reach Arthur’s shoulders, so he tentatively straddled his lower back. He held his breath, but Arthur didn’t object to the intimate position. 

Still, it was better not to push his luck. He settled more firmly, and asked, “Is this alright?” 

Arthur hummed what seemed like an affirmative, so he carried on. Arthur wasn’t wrong in his claim that his muscles were tense. Merlin dug the heel of his palm into the knots of tension along Arthur’s shoulders, massaging at the nape of his neck until the tension ebbed. He was tempted to run his fingers through Arthur’s golden hair, but they were still slick with oil. Surely scalp massages weren’t unusual—not that Merlin had ever personally received one—but he knew Arthur was rather particular about his hair. For all he claimed Merlin acted like a girl, he took great pride in his appearance and grooming habits. 

Merlin gradually moved on to Arthur’s upperback. He tested various angles and amounts of pressure to ease the stiffness there. Once he was satisfied with his work on the upper portion of Arthur’s back, Merlin leaned back a bit, adjusting his position as an excuse to ogle him. The oil had seeped into Arthur’s bronzed skin, leaving it with a glistening sheen. 

Merlin didn’t dare allow his eyes to stray lower than Arthur’s waist—especially given his rather compromising position. 

Merlin applied more oil to his hands and resumed his ministrations. He reveled in the feel of every ridge of vertebrae and hollow of ribs. Arthur’s back curved and arched beneath Merlin’s touch, and his head lolled to the side. 

It was impossible not to react to the rumbles of pleasure emitting from Arthur’s throat, and Merlin could feel his cock plumping. Fuck. Fuck, that was really not good, especially considering the fact that he was straddling Arthur. 

Merlin tried to conjure up the least sexy images he could think of. _The entrails from the deer Arthur hunted last week. Lady Catrina’s troll face. Grunhilda’s nasty frog tongue._

It wasn’t working. Would Arthur notice if Merlin used a spell to calm his burgeoning arousal? Arthur was rather oblivious, but with no proper distractions, wouldn’t he hear Merlin casting the spell? And what if the spell went wrong and prevented him from ever getting aroused again? That sounded like a miserable way to live. Merlin hardly got any free-time to himself, but he still had a healthy libido, and he enjoyed the rare moments when he could take himself in hand and allow his thoughts to wander into dangerous territory. 

Arthur spoke up, but his speech was garbled.

“What was that, sire?” Merlin asked in a slightly strangled voice. Shit, he hadn’t noticed had he? Merlin’s erection had wilted somewhat, but he wasn’t completely soft either. 

More unintelligible muttering. 

”Didn’t quite catch that.” 

Arthur finally deigned to lift his head. “Are you deaf? I said massage _lower._ ”

Oh, he’d definitely heard that wrong. “Lower?” Merlin repeated, half-expecting Arthur to harangue him for his poor hearing, because there was no way he was actually requesting that Merlin—

“I don’t just work my upper body, you know” Arthur snapped. 

Merlin hoped the tremor in his hands wasn’t detectable as he ventured lower, pressing into the divots just above Arthur’s arse. He didn’t dare reach any lower, not without express permission. 

“W-where else would you like me to massage?” Merlin croaked. 

“Do you know what a full body massage is? My glutes, Merlin, unless you want me to call on another servant?”

No way was Merlin allowing this opportunity to slip through his fingers. 

“Well?” Arthur prompted. 

“Just let me get more oil.” Merlin was grateful his voice managed to come out somewhat level. 

With a great deal of trepidation, he gathered a handful of Arthur’s arse and kneaded it. It was firm and taut, and he was fascinated by the slight give of it. 

The noise Arthur let out was positively indecent. Merlin’s cock gave a tiny twitch. So long as Arthur didn’t comment on it, he hoped he was safe. 

Merlin gathered even more oil in his hands as an excuse to regain his composure. _It’s just a massage,_ he told himself. _A professional, impersonal massage._

He positioned his hands over the glorious mounds of Arthur’s arse and sucked in a deep, fortifying breath, but any hope Merlin had of remaining calm evaporated when a large drop of oil fell from his fingers. Merlin watched with abject horror as the oil threatened to drip down along Arthur's crack. Merlin’s his brain kicked back into action. Arthur would surely be furious if the oil gathered in such a spot, so Merlin did the only thing he could think of. Which was to try and gather the oil before it completed its journey. His intentions were entirely innocent, but the next moment, his fingers had directly pressed against the pucker between Arthur’s cheeks. 

Merlin hadn't meant to. He _really_ hadn't. But after the guttural moan Arthur let out, he sure as hell didn't regret it either. 

“S-sorry.” 

_“Merlin.”_

Oh, right. His fingers were still pressed against Arthur’s opening. “It was an accident!” his voice came out as a yelp, but the noise Arthur made in response didn’t sound angry in the least. It sounded aroused.

“Don’t stop,” Arthur’s groaned. And then, for good measure, he tacked on a “you idiot.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Merlin!” 

He gulped, his adam’s apple bobbing violently as he pressed his fingers back to that private, intimate spot. Arthur immediately shoved back against him, encouraging him. He'd never dreamt Arthur would be this responsive. Merlin slowly massaged around his opening until his index finger was able to slip inside with little resistance. 

The ember of heat in Merlin’s stomach became a full-fledged flame. Arthur was so smooth and hot inside. Merlin could scarcely believe this was happening. He slowly worked his finger in and out until Arthur was loose enough for him to easily slip in a second one. 

Merlin’s cock spurted out precome at the guttural moan Arthur let out. 

“More,” Arthur demanded, making what would have been a plea coming from anyone else sound like a demand. Merlin, ever the loyal servant, was happy to oblige. 

Merlin pumped in and out of Arthur’s hole before shoving in a third finger in that tight heat. Arthur’s body glistened with sweat and oil as he alternated between humping against the mattress and shoving himself back on Merlin’s fingers. 

“You’re so hot.” Merlin didn’t even realize he was speaking aloud until after he’d said it. 

“Merlin. _Merlin._ ” The breathy recitation of Merlin’s name was going to star in his sexual fantasies for possibly the rest of his life. 

Arthur swore loudly when Merlin's fingers dragged along his prostate, and he ground down harder into the mattress. Merlin bumped his fingers against that spot once more. Arthur's thrusts grew erratic, and his breathing ragged. 

Arthur’s already tight hole clamped down around Merlin’s fingers; the only warning he was given before Arthur was coming. 

Merlin carefully removed his fingers from Arthur’s hole, and immediately fumbled with the ties to his own breeches. He was achingly hard, and his cock slapped against his stomach when he tugged his breeches down. 

His hips undulated against Arthur’s shuddering body, the oil slicking his way.

As much as he would have liked to, Merlin didn’t breach Arthur fully, but he did take himself in hand and rub his blunt cockhead along Arthur’s opening. When it caught on Arthur’s rim, they let out a simultaneous groan. 

He bowed over Arthur’s back to press his lips to the nape of Arthur’s nape. “Is this okay?” he panted against Arthur’s skin. 

Arthur shoved back against him in answer. 

That was all the encouragement he needed. Merlin continued to thrust between Arthur’s cheeks until he felt like he was exploding. His vision whited out and his cock spasmed, pulsing out warmth between them. With a breathless curse Merlin’s arms gave out, and he collapsed against Arthur’s body. 

“Fuck,” Merlin panted, fighting to regain his breath and motor function of his limbs. 

“I think you melted my brain,” Arthur announced. 

“All part of my master plan,” Merlin huffed out, “to incapacitate you and take Camelot for my own.” 

Arthur’s head dropped against his mound of pillows. “You as King of Camelot? You can’t even make it through a council meeting without falling asleep.”

“I could if they weren’t so boring.” 

Arthur chuckled quietly, but their moment of bliss faded quickly. “Towel.” 

The change in topic caught Merlin off-guard. “What?” 

“You came all over my arse. I don’t want your spend drying on me.” 

“Oh. Right.” Merlin certainly didn’t see the issue with it, but dried come admittedly wasn’t very pleasant. He reluctantly fetched a towel and proceeded to clean Arthur off. Part of him wished he and Arthur had the type of relationship where he wouldn’t have to constantly wait on him, especially after achieving pleasure together, but the other part of him was too surprised Arthur was letting him do this to be upset. Whatever had happened between them could be brushed off as a moment of madness, but Arthur seemed content allowing Merlin to clean his unmentionables. There was something strangely intimate about dragging the soft, damp cloth over Arthur’s lower back and arse. After he was thoroughly cleaned, Merlin added the cloth to the hamper, making a mental note to strip Arthur’s bedsheets in the morning. 

Merlin watched the gentle rise and fall of Arthur’s chest. He was lax and calmer than Merlin had ever seen him, and a rosy sex flush still covered his skin. Merlin drank him in, committing the sight to memory. He doubted he’d ever have an experience like this again. He only wished he’d had the foresight to drag it out longer. 

Finally, Merlin cleared his throat with a cough. “Right, um, I’ll just be going then.” He nearly tripped in his haste to get away before things could become truly awkward. 

Arthur propped himself up on his elbows. “What on earth are you doing?” 

“Um. Leaving?” 

Arthur fixed Merlin with the look he reserved for when Merlin was doing something truly moronic. “Get back here,” he ordered, shifting to make room on the mattress. 

“Oh.” Merlin slipped under the covers with as much grace as he could manage. He tried to leave a respectable distance between them, but Arthur immediately threw an arm around his waist and tugged him close. 

For a moment he was dumbfounded. “I didn’t think you’d be a cuddler,” he managed after a moment, unable to keep the smile out of his voice. 

Arthur buried his nose in Merlin’s hair and inhaled deeply. “Merlin,” he sighed. 

“Shut up?” 

“You guessed it.”


End file.
